


I Should Keep You Around

by orphan_account



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Asphyxiation, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Gunplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Stabbing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2317367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Locus picks up prostitutes to kill because their deaths are harder to be tied to and easier to hide; Felix makes a habit of pretending to be a prostitute to lure his victims to him. It was only a matter of time until the two met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Should Keep You Around

The knife concealed in Felix’s boot is pressed firmly against his leg, and it feels like it’s the only thing weighing him to the earth as he smiles coyly and subtly adjusts his short skirt. He would liken himself to a venus flytrap, and he is usually patient enough for the metaphor to work. But it’s been too long since the last time, it’s late, dark, and cold, and he is frustrated with waiting.

His smile hints at becoming genuine, however, when he finally catches someone’s eyes; he is tall and rugged, and Felix thinks that he might let himself play with his food tonight. He seems sober too; a definite plus in more ways than one. A good fuck and a good kill on the horizon, the night seemed to be looking up for him.

“You got a name baby? Gotta know what to scream later”.

“Locus” is the only answer Felix gets out of him. He scoffs.

“First name or last?”

“Yes.”

Felix shakes his head. “Whatever floats your boat”.

Locus’s kisses feel mechanical, as if he’s just going through the motions of something, but it’s definitely not the worst Felix has ever had. Still, he can’t get over the nagging feeling that something tonight is off. Trusting his instincts, he palms his knife the first chance he gets. So much for a good screw, he thinks.

The first slice of the knife into Locus’s back stops short when he hears the distinctive ‘click’ of a gun’s safety being switched off. Locus pushes the barrel of the gun into Felix’s stomach.

He looks down at the gun, then to Locus, then the gun again.

And Felix laughs.

His reaction seems to catch Locus off guard, and Felix uses his momentary confusion to stab Locus in the shoulder. He tries to wrestle the gun from him, but Locus recovers too quickly and wrenches Felix around by his arm. He holds the gun to Felix’s head.

“This cause I’m a hooker or cause I like dudes? Wanna at least know what _kind_ of zealous asshole killed me.”

“Don't insult me. You won’t be missed and can't be tied to me.”

“Oh, is _that_ all”

His back being held flush to Locus’s front, Felix can feel Locus's erection straining against his pants. He wasn’t hard before all of this (which really should have been another red flag).

Felix struggles against Locus’s grip, biting deep bleeding marks into his arms as he is wrestled into the bed. Locus wrenches the knife from his hand and straddles Felix’s body. The tank top he had been wearing is cut away, and in doing so Locus also cuts a thin line into Felix’s skin. The blood wells up slowly, and Felix can’t help but buck his hips up in twisted pleasure. This man had a glint of calculated sadism in his eyes that made Felix’s blood burn. His cock is leaking a wet spot of precum onto his panties that he could feel spreading. In that moment he realized that he might actually die tonight; the thought brought a moan to his lips he could not suppress.

“You’re wrong,” he pants out. “I’ll be missed.”

“Who’s going to miss you? Your pimp?”

Felix laughs. “You still don’t get it, do you. What prostitute tries to stab their client _before_ they get attacked?”

“So you’re a killer then; you’re even less likely to have friends or family.”

Felix socks Locus in the face, and he spits out blood. His lip is split and more oozes down his face.

“I’ll make sure _you’ll_ miss me”.

He pulls his knife from Locus’s grip and manages to stab him in the side. He misses the vitals, but it still distracts Locus enough for him to wrestle his gun away, tossing it far away across the floor. It earns him a back eye, and it takes a conscious effort not to moan out loud again.

Felix works as quickly as he can, ripping a strip of the flimsy motel bed sheets and tying Locus’s wrists together, gagging him too for good measure. He wrenches Locus’s pants and underwear down in one pull and his cock bobs up, fully erect. Locus looks pissed, more than he has so far, and Felix grins before mouthing at his cock. He pulls out the packet of lube he had in his other boot, and quickly squirts it into his palm. Felix slides his hand up and down Locus’s shaft, swiping his thumb over the head on his last stroke up. He spoke the whole while.

“I’m gonna keep you, I think. You can be like my big dumb dog or something. Maybe I’ll get you a collar. I’ve never had a partner before but you seem to know what you’re doing; whaddaya say we forget about trying to kill each other and just kill everyone else instead. None of that love bullshit though; maybe, like, ‘the least amount of hate’. Or fuck, maybe the most, maybe we can just fuck. I’d like to keep fucking you for what it’s worth.”

He spoke in rambling paragraphs, but not in a pointless way that would indicate nervousness. As far as Locus could tell, he just loved the sound of his own voice. The only pause was when he slid himself down Locus’s cock, groaning at the burning stretch of being filled up.

“Fuuuuck you’re big, now I’m _definitely_ keeping you around.” He rambled on as he lifted himself up off Locus’s cock and pushed himself down as hard as he could, punctuated by loud groans and breathy moans that infuriated Locus with how much he wanted more; he wanted to hear those moans muffled behind a gag or distorted by lips around the barrel of a gun. But more than anything else, he wanted Felix to shut. The fuck. Up.

Locus struggled against his bindings; the knot was secure, but the fabric itself was thin and flimsy and he tore through it easily. He didn’t want to ask himself why he didn’t do that earlier. Instead, he yanks his gag down and wraps his fingers tight around Felix’s throat, cutting off his stream of words with a choking groan.

“You talk to much” he growls, pushing himself up on top of Felix and consequently throwing him roughly onto the bed. He slams his hips into Felix’s who, to Locus’s surprise, thrusts back to meet him. He wheezes and moans breathlessly, occasionally taking in a rasping breath of not nearly enough air. His face is growing red and he is growing dizzy and finally, at the very last second, Locus lets him breath. The unexpected rush of oxygen goes straight to Felix’s brain and he feels light and euphoric, the heat pooling in his groin exploding as the black spots in his vision fade. Felix arches his back impossibly and moans like the whore he was pretending to be, and when Locus doesn’t slow for even a moment he whines beautifully as his oversensitive nerves are stimulated raw.

Locus eventually pulls out, leaving Felix hard and panting to catch his breath. He walks across the room, and Felix at first thinks he’s about to be left like this. Then he feels a hand in his hair, tugging him off the bed and pushing him onto his knees. Locus pushes the barrel of his retrieved gun past Felix’s lips, and he tries not to show any of the fear or renewed arousal on his face.

“Suck” Locus orders, and Felix smiles around the barrel. He drags his tongue down, licking a wet stripe and groaning at the metallic taste. Locus wraps his free hand around his cock and pumps as Felix lavishes the gun with his tongue and mouth. The safety is still off, Felix notices, and the idea of Locus (accidentally or on purpose) putting just a little more pressure on that trigger intrudes into his mind. He groans and bucks his hips into the air, taking the barrel of the gun deep into is throat past the point where he starts to choke. Locus grinds the toe of his shoe into Felix's cock and tears well at his eyes. He bucks and moans feels lost in the pleasured pain of it all, and he only knows he’s still alive because this is his depraved heaven and he’s sure as shit not getting in there.

He whines when Locus pulls the gun away, hollowing his cheeks around it as it’s removed, and Locus cums on his face with a soft groan. Felix groans, leaning into it, and Locus crouches down to grip Felix’s cock. He strokes it roughly, aiming it so that Felix cums in his own face with a weak moan. He licks the cum from his lips and lets out a sigh.

“Still think no one would miss me?” he breathes.

“Yes” Locus answers coldly, already stood up. “But I find you…intriguing. For now”.

Felix takes a shower and Locus is gone by the time he is done. His knife has been placed on the bedside table, Locus’s blood still clinging to it. But more interestingly, it is resting on top of a phone number. Something deep inside Felix knows it's not a fake. 


End file.
